Eveline loved him! Her own lips had acknowledged it, her kisses seemed still to linger on his lips; but to what end--my God! he exclaimed, in bitterness of heart, to what end? Again and again he thought over her plaintive and child-like wish, 'if we could only get mamma to be our friend,' and all that wish suggested. Her mother suspected much, he feared, and that her father knew all. Sir Paget, with his colossal wealth, was looming in the distance like a simoon to the newly dawned love; and poor Evan could but come to the terrible conclusion that, like too many others, his penniless love could only be a hopeless one. So wore the night away--the last, Cameron was assured, he would ever spend in Dundargue; and morning came. Unslept, Cameron made rapidly the prosaic preparations for his departure, and a valet had borne off his portmanteaus, rugs, and gun-case to the entrance hall, where the sleepy Mr. Tappleton and a wagonette awaited him. As he was about to descend the great, silent staircase, suddenly Eveline, fully dressed for the day and softly slippered, stood before him, her mignonne face very pale, and her soft hazel eyes inflamed by past weeping. 'Evan!' 'My darling!' No housemaids were about as yet, and no prying eyes were there, nor had Ronald Gair with his pipes blown _reveille_. 'I could not let you go without--without one word of farewell,' she sobbed. Long and mute was their embrace, and the heart of Cameron swelled as if to bursting with mingled love and gratitude. He pressed her to it. It was their parting embrace, and both seemed to feel in it that which a writer has described as 'the vibration of an agony.' 'I feel as if I were bereft of reason!' he whispered. 'My poor Evan--my own dear love!' cooed the girl. One kiss more, and he was gone. When or where, if ever, would they meet again? Eveline had nervously and sedulously avoided Sir Paget till the time of his departure; and, when he did leave Dundargue in the dawn, he was only seen off by the old butler; but Evan Cameron had an unexpected farewell caress, the memory of a sad, soft, and clinging kiss that he was to take away with him to what he deemed the land of bondage, and tearful eyes watched his wagonette as it passed down the avenue and out upon the high-road that led to the railway. Evan looked backwards at the tall and stately pile of Dundargue, on which the rays of the rising sun shone redly, and deep in his heart he envied Carslogie, who was to remain behind for a couple of days' shooting. Yet wherefore should he envy any man while Eveline loved him? was his afterthought.